


S(hituation) Normal AFU!

by Semperfidani



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A real shituation, A shitty story, Ben is ill, But don't take this shit seriously, But it's a love story and surprisingly tender, Dingy Bathrooms, Don't eat the lobster cake, F/M, Fantasy comes true, For my Unbreakable Sprint sisters!, Gas Station Bathrooms, Helpful Rey, Illness, It looks like a huge cobra, M/M, Rey is the gas station attendant, Rey sneaks a peak, Rey writes fanfic, Roadside illness, Sassy Finn, Score Like a Whore, Strangers to Relationship, SwoloFic, Warning: Lots of bodily fluid mentions, Warning: graphically sick (vomit & diarrhea), We found love in a hopeless place, crackfic, sassy Rey, warning: swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 18:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20801087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semperfidani/pseuds/Semperfidani
Summary: This is a shitty fic. Seriously.Based of a (joke) prompt. (I'm paraphrasing below).Ben gets violently sick on a road trip after eating bad seafood. Rey is a gas station attendant. He passes out. She rescues him from a shitty situation.Oh why did I write this? :D





	S(hituation) Normal AFU!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyJediLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyJediLife/gifts).

> This fic was actually written on a Discord page as joke response to a joke prompt. And everyone loved it and wanted me to post it on A03. It was a wild ride. So here you go! This is dedicated to *all* my Unbreakable Sprint sisters!
> 
> For everyone else, enjoy this crack fic! If bodily function mentions make you extremely squeamish...it's okay to back away.
> 
> But I promise it's a love story.

_ _

> _It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny._
> 
> _But I've gotta let it go._
> 
> _We found love in a hopeless place._
> 
> _~We Found Love, Rhinna_

* * *

Ben is on the Pacific Coast Highway, driving like a bandit. He is full of regret and shit.

Regret, for ordering the lobster cake and continuing to eat it when it smelled rather off. Shit, because that was the result of eating less then suspect lobster cakes. He prayed the turtle stayed in the shell. His gut gurgled loudly, issuing it's displeasure. Regret flashed through his mind as he recalled his mother warning him to always carry a roll of toilet paper and a fresh pair of underwear in the trunk. But he never listened to his parents. Now, as he begged every God in existence for a gas station, he regretted every single time he ignored them.

To his utter relief, he saw the faint outline of an orange 76 gas station sign off in the distant. For Ben, who was starting to get dizzy, it looked like a binary sunset — a sign of hope. He floored it, passing a slow-moving motor home on the solid line. He barely got back into the lane as an oncoming vehicle blared it's horn, the driver giving him the one-finger salute as he passed, like a true patriot.

He pulled in quickly, the gravel spraying beneath the wheels. He pulled his Audi into the lot, parking it across three stalls. He cut the ignition. He felt like he wanted to drop some gas, but was in a position where he couldn't put faith in his farts. Running swiftly into the 76 gas station, he ran past the aisle of magazines full of Penthouse and Playboys stuck behind RV World and Women's Weekly. He was certain he saw a picture of his mother on the latter cover.

He pulled up to the counter. A beautiful brunette was bent over reading a comic book. She had her hair tied into three buns, and wore a superman shirt tucked into what appeared to be faded denim jeans.

"Which stall," she asked in a bored voice, her hand reaching to the gas station control.

"I need the key." She looked up, and he was struck by the intensity of her hazel eyes. Had he not needed to shit more than his next breath, he would have adopted his cool-as-fuck persona that seemed to work well back in Los Angeles. Back home, he had no problem attracting a bevy of hot, plastic women with big tits and round juicy asses; Bazine, Kaydel, Rose, even his mother's best friend Amilyn were his latest conquests. Fame attracted women. But now was not the time to think about it. He needed to shit, and he needed to do it now.

"I need the bathroom key. It's urgent."

"There is no key. The door doesn't lock. Just lean the garbage can against the door and nobody should be able to get in while you do your business."

He completed a swift 180 degrees and ran to the back of the store, knocking over a display stand of Cheezies. He found the bathroom stall, taking note of the gender neutral sign. Who knew a gas station in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would be so progressive? Although, Ben figured it was because they were probably too cheap to install two bathrooms.

He slammed the door open. The state of the bathroom looked like something straight out of Compton. But the pressure was getting to him, so he prayed to St. Mary of Venereal Diseases that he didn't get an STD taking a dump.

He went to grab the garbage can, but it was bigger than he estimated — and heavier too. He almost lost his shit, literally, trying to lift it. "Fuck it!" Ben exclaimed out loud. He was tall enough that if push came to shove, he could just lift his leg to keep the door close.

He swiftly unbuttoned his dark wash J-Crew denim's, quietly praying that the puddle of water on the ground was simply a pool of humidity. His boxer briefs quickly followed, and he sat his thick juicy ass on the toilet.

To call it an _ass-plosion_ was being polite. It was like Old Faithful releasing in a reverse direction. He groaned out loud in sweet, sweet, relief. _This might be a double-flusher, _he thought to himself. He stood up, flushed the toilet, and then sat back down, and resumed where he left off.

As he sat on the john, contemplating his life choices, a slow grumble emitted from his belly. He inhaled to attempt to calm his rumbling stomach. But the smell. The motherfucking smell. It was inhumane.

A wave of dizziness hit him like a shit ton brick to the head. He burped, the sound resembling the worm from the movie 'Tremors.' _Please God, don't do this to me. I'm sorry for masturbating as a kid._

With the force of a West Coast tsunami, the lobster cake made it's way out his other hole. _The Exorcist had nothing on Ben in this dark hour. _He couldn't control himself. Liquid was coming from every hole.

This was not how he pictured end times — but here he was. Dying in a gas station in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. For a brief moment, his life flashed before his eyes. This was his come-to-Jesus moment. A wave of dizziness hit him hard.

And because life wasn't done being cruel, he heard a gentle knock on the door. "Are you okay in there?"

His last thought, as he slid off the toilet, was that he hoped the pretty brunette didn't have to clean this all up.

* * *

Rey was supposed to have the day off. She had plans imagining how she was going to find her meal ticket out of here. She even wrote self-inserted modern AU fan fiction, pretending she was Kira from Star Wars. In her fantasy, Kylo Ren, the "Nazi" of Star Wars (according to angry fanbois) would come rescue her. She imagined Kylo (played by the devilishly handsome Ben Solo) would randomly stop in, driving his sleek black sports car, take one look at her and whisk her away.

Her best friend and colleague, Finn, begged her to cover his shift so that he could go out on a date with Poe, the gas jockey from the competing gas station across the street. So here she was, on a buttfuck hot Saturday, in buttfuck nowhere, at her buttfuck loser job, reading the latest Star Wars comic of Kylo Ren that just came out. She was so engrossed that she didn't hear the door open, or the frantic pace of the customer who entered. She did, however, sense a dark shadow looming over her, covering the light that she was using to read the comic.

"Which stall," she responded, reaching out to tally the cost of the gasoline.

"I need the key," a deep voice uttered to her.

She looked up, annoyed at the asshole who interrupted her Kylo-time, and stopped breathing.

_Holy fucking shitballs. It's Ben-fucking-Solo!_

As she slowly died on the inside, she wondered if maybe she had _actually_ died. Did she ascend into heaven? Was this what it looked like?

"I need the bathroom key. It's urgent."

Rey crashed back to earth. She quickly scrambled to find her voice.

"There is no key. The door doesn't lock. Just lean the garbage can against the door and nobody should be able to get in while you do your business."

She watched as he turned to rush to the bathroom, her eyes drawn to his tight meaty-ass. He knocked the Cheezie stand down as he passed. _Rude!_ She spent a full-hour making it this morning (even though it only really needed five-minutes tops to set up).

As soon as he entered the bathroom, she whipped out her phone.

> **To Finn:** You will never guess in a million years who just entered the gas station to use the shitter.

> **From Finn:** Rey, I'm just about to get to home base. Can this wait until tomorrow?
> 
> **To Finn:** Fucker, hold your dick for a hot second. Ben MOFO Solo just came to use the shitter. BEN MOFO SOLO!!!!
> 
> **From Finn:** Holy shit! For real? Did you get his autograph? His phone number? Offer yourself as sacrifice?
> 
> **To Finn:** Later. He had to use the shitter. Pay attention!
> 
> **From Finn:** So like, don't take this as creepy. But are you going to take a q-tip from the pharmacy section to swab some DNA when he leaves?
> 
> **To Finn:** D'uh! Like I haven't already thought about it!
> 
> **To Finn:** Oh god. He just moaned. Loudly. Do you think he's jacking off in there?
> 
> **From Finn:** Well look at the bright side. If he is, there's a descent shot you'll be able to collect a quality sample.
> 
> **To Finn:** Gross!
> 
> **From Finn:** Well I've got to go. Poe just came back with a box of gas station Trojans.
> 
> **To Finn:** 'K. Make safe choices!

> **From Finn:** You too! Remember, loose girls capture all the boys in the yard

> **To Finn:** So what you are slaying is that I should make a move on Ben MOFO Solo?

> **From Finn:** Score like a whore, babe. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take!

Rey tossed her phone back into her purse. She looked at the wall-clock. Fifteen solid minutes had passed, and he still hadn't exited the bathroom. She walked around the counter and shuffled to the magazines, pretending to sort the latest selection of the trucker jerk-off mags. Five more minutes passed, and he _still_ hadn't exited. She remembered her manager Unkar warning her about crack heads doing lines coke. Was Ben _MOFO_ Solo doing lines of coke? She quietly locked the door, and turned the open side to closed. She couldn't watch the till _and_ deal with a possible junkie at the same time.

Carefully tiptoeing to the door, she pressed her ear to the wooden panel, trying to listen for any sounds of snorts or deep inhales. The sound she heard was anything but, and she jerked her head back suddenly, as if her ear had pressed against the iro

Memories of Spring Break 2015 flashed into her mind. Her memory was fuzzy, the only lingering image was of Finn holding her hair as she hurled into the rose bush. The sound she heard from the other side was exactly the same. She thought she heard an extra splash, and figured it was the sound of the vomit hitting the water

Rey wasn't a qualified medic, but it was clear that Ben _MOFO_ Solo needed her help. This was her opportunity to shine! This was her opportunity to be the hero! She was up to the task! This had the potential to be her finest hour in her otherwise buttfuck life.

She tapped lightly on the door. "Are you okay in there?

The only sound she heard in reply was a groan, followed by a large crash.

_Shit!_

"Ben? Mr. Solo? Are you okay?" Rey pressed her ear to the door. Best case scenario, he responded. Worst case scenario, he was dead. She hoped for the former, but feared the latter.

There was no sound.

_Double shit!_

Rey panicked and ran back to the counter to grab her phone.

> **To Finn:** OMG FINN I THINK HE SHIT HIMSELF TO DEATH!

> **From Finn:** ...

> **From Finn:** ...

> **From Finn:** ...

> **From Finn:** ...
> 
> **From Finn:** Peanut, I need you to level with me. This is a no judgment zone. But did you go all Fatal Attraction on Ben Solo? I sent Poe to get the shovel so we can bury the body, just in case.
> 
> **To Finn:** No you fucker. I didn't kill Ben Solo. I think he literally shit himself to death.
> 
> **From Finn:** ...
> 
> **From Finn:** ...
> 
> **From Finn:** ...
> 
> **From Finn:** Poe and I are on our way. Hang tight, Peanut!

Rey tucked her phone into the pocket of her jeans. She ran back and attempted to push the door open. It opened just a crack, and she can just make out the scene based off of the reflection on the paper dispenser. She barely made out Ben's legs coming from the stall. Because he was built like a Sasquatch, his one leg blocked the door from being able to be opened.

She shut the door quickly, and low-key processed that the leg she saw was bare. _And muscular_. She slid down the door and curled her legs up so she can lean her head on her arms. _Of course it would happen to me that the man of my dream would enter my life and proceed to die this way. _A tear escaped her eye and she deeply inhaled in an attempt to suppress her emotions.

Upon inhale, the smell hits her. She dry heaved a bit, and scrambled to her feet, gasping for oxygen. She was just about to step away when she hears a pitiful groan coming from the bathroom. A wave of relief crashes over her.

"HE LIVES!" She shouted in the silence, pumping her fist in sweet victory. She ran to the paltry First-Aid section, and grabbed the kit and the face mask — which she promptly puts on her forehead. She stopped by the cleaning closet and grabbed a few towels — and the mop and bucket — dragging them into the small hallway. She ran back to the bathroom and knocked.

"Mr. Solo? Ben? It's Rey, the gas station attendant. Can you hear me?"

A bit of silence passed before she heard him mumble a reply.

"Yes. Are you an angel?"

"I am today, baby," Rey replied in a bit of self-indulgence. Now that she knew Ben MOFO Solo is not dead, she checked off fantasy number 34 on her list: call Ben Solo "baby" to his face. "Ben, you are going to have to move your leg."

She listened carefully until she heard his leg slide away from the door, accompanied by the squeak of skin sliding on something liquid.

_I've got this. I've got this. It's just like the time I wrote that A/B/O story with Nurse Kira and Patient Kylo._

She lowered the mask over her nose, and with determination, pushed the door open.

It was...horrible.

Shit is everywhere. She looks up, and swears she can see vomit on the ceiling (although in fairness that might be mold because, after all, this _is_ a gas station in buttfuck nowhere.)

Rey gagged. The mask did nothing. She backed away and ran to the front, grabbing some bags from the till. She inserted her left foot into one bag, and her right foot into the other. She secured them with a scrunchie from the inexplicable hair care section the store had.

She marched back to the bathroom — _like a BOSS_ — and opened the door wider. Once her eyes scrolled past the disgusting spectacle of human waste, it hit her.

_OMG! BEN MOFO SOLO IS HALF-NAKED!_

She debated waiting for Poe or Finn to come help.

_But..._ life is short, and fantasy check-lists opportunities seldom happened in her life (she reminded herself nonchalantly.)

_It's not perverted if checking out his dick is for medical emergency reasons,_ she told herself. She slid forward, carefully balancing herself with the mop handle. She tilted her head slowly forward, practically stepping on his meaty and muscular thighs, just to sneak a quick peak. _Holy Shit! That thing is the size of a python! _She couldn't help but gawk, like he was some sort of exhibit at a freak show. _No wonder he's always surrounded by women... I'd be a hoe in that garden too,_ she thought to herself.

A sudden cough brings her to attention. Her eyes flash up to meet a pair of smirking golden brown eyes.

_Fucking shit hole fuckity fuck fuck fuck. I'm busted!_

"If you're done taking in your fill, Sweetheart, I could...umm...use a hand here."

"Well put that way," she replied cheekily back, "I need another minute."

He smiled at her, before dropping his eyes to look around, his face suddenly flushed red with embarrassment. "So about this. I had a lobster cake a few towns back. And well..."

"Did you by chance eat at _Seafood-On-The-Rush_?"

"Yah, how did you know?"

"Dude, no one should ever eat at a place called _Seafood-On-The-Rush_."

She stepped forward and extended a hand. He reached for her small hand with his much bigger hand (_adequately sized to handle his Cobra,_ Rey thought to herself.) There is a spark that is exchanged through the touch — they both feel the pull.

Ben steadied himself, and quickly walked over to the sink to attempt to clean himself up. Rey handed him a towel while she pushed all the human waste to the back corner with a mop.

"Um. You wouldn't happen to sell men's underwear or clothing, do you?"

"Mr. Solo, who doesn't travel with an emergency pair of underwear?"

"You sound like my mom...um..." he looked at her quizzically.

"Rey. Rey Niima."

"I'm Ben. Ben Solo."

"I'm going to text my friend Finn, and his boyfriend Poe, to pick up a pair of clothes for you."

"Thanks, Sweetheart. I'll just ...um..."

"I have a hoodie you could tie around your..umm..." She nodded towards his dick, trying not to look at it. She's amazed it doesn't drag to the ground.

* * *

An hour later, she ushered Poe and Finn out of the door. Finn makes the "text me" look.

The bathroom was cleaned up, and Ben wore a fresh pair of sweatpants. He stood a few inches away, drinking a Gatorade to replenish his energy.

"So..." Rey said awkwardly, stuffing her hands into her jean pockets and rocking back on her heels. "I guess that's it."

Ben looked like he was going to say something, but then he hesitates. "Yah, I guess that's it. Thank you for taking care of me, Rey. Nobody has ever taken care of me without some sort of expectation of something in return. Especially over something as disgusting as this."

"Hey. If you can't hit rock-bottom in the middle of buttfuck nowhere with a nobody, who can you hit rock-bottom with?" She joked, trying to cover the unexpected feeling of sadness at his departure.

"You aren't a nobody...not to me. I'll never forget you, Rey from buttfuck nowhere." He reached for her and drew her into a hug (fulfilling fantasy 2, 4, and 7.)

They clung to each other, neither seeming to want to pull away. Finally, she forced herself to pull back. She got live her fantasy, and it was selfish of her to ask for more.

She walked him to the door. "Well...goodbye.

"Bye," he replied.

He walked out and she shut the door. He appeared to drop something, like a set of keys. A pair of golden dice tumbled to the ground. He bent down to pick them up, and turned around one more time to stare at her. She stared a him a few seconds later, and then stepped back, and turned away so he couldn't see the tears flowing down her eyes.

_Stupid! Stupid girl, s_he thought to herself. It was stupid to fall for some fancy celebrity. _Maybe it's better just to stick to fantasies about fictional characters_. _Love was for fan fiction, not me._

Rey listened as the tires squealed out of the parking lot, the gravel kicking the stones in their wake. She walked back to the counter, and picked up her comic book. The words were meaningless, and after a while, she put the comic down. She felt empty. All she could see was Ben Solo.

The line between fiction and fantasy was irrevocably blurred.

An hour passed and she looked at the clock; she had thirty minutes left to go before her shift was over. She heard the sound of gravel kicking up, and she figured it was a tourist filling-up the tank before checking into the Comfort Inn at the next town over. The door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps proceeded to the till.

"Which stall?" She asked, not looking up.

"Whichever one is the access to your heart."

She jerked her head up to see Ben standing before her with a big grin on his annoyingly beautiful full lips.

"Ben?"

"I got to the State border, and I realized that I couldn't cross that line without you. I couldn't cross that border knowing I was leaving you behind."

"But you have a glamorous life and I'm just a simple girl," Rey replied.

"Here's a secret. My life isn't glamorous and my escapades are greatly exaggerated. Behind closed doors, I'm just a geek who watches the Sci-Fi channel, and whose only companion is a belligerent but lovable bull terrier rescue dog."

"Oh."

"I know maybe this is crazy. But you've already seen me at my absolute worst," he said, rubbing his hands through his hair nervously. "But if you are willing to come with me, I'll spend the rest of my life showing you the best of me." He extended his hand. "Join me."

Rey looked at his hand, and then his eyes. She saw love. She saw belonging. She saw a lonely person — just like herself. She stepped back, and his face fell. Without hesitation, she ran round the counter, watching his face light up again as she raced towards him, leaping into his arms like a spider-monkey.

"Yes!" She replied, kissing him on the cheek. "This is crazy. And like probably stupid. But the heart wants what it wants, and my heart wants you. Only you. Not Kylo Ren. Not Ben Solo the celebrity. But Ben Solo, the man who puked and shat his way into my heart."

He spun her around before lowering her to the ground. His eyes sought permission, and she nodded her head enthusiastically. He lowered his head, and his soft lips met with hers. They kissed for what seemed like eternity. She was glad she gave him that travel-sized mouthwash earlier.

When they finally came up for oxygen, she reached over to grab her purse, jacket and phone. She grabbed a piece of paper and a felt marker and wrote a note, taping it the front door. 

**UNKAR - I QUIT! REY**.

She locked the safe, turned off the lights, dropped the keys into the drop box, switched the open sign to close, and took off — hand-in-hand with Ben.

* * *

> **To Finn:** So I just met him, and this is crazy, but I'm on my way to Los Angeles.

> **From Finn:** Bitch!? For real?

> **To Finn:** Yes, for real.

> **From Finn:** Well I guess that's one way to collect a sample.

> **To Finn:** Gross!

> **From Finn:** So is there any chance he's looking to hire a gardener? Maybe a cabana boy too?

> **To Finn:** I just asked him and he laughed. But for real, he'll put you guys up until you settle on your feet.

> **From Finn:** Poe just said "honk, honk bitches! We are going to LA!"

> **To Finn:** Woot! See you in a few days. But if the bedroom is rocking, don't come a knocking.

> **From Finn:** ...

> **From Finn:** ...

> **From Finn:** ....

> **From Finn:** Slut.

* * *


End file.
